


Casual Affair

by littlechinesedoll



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, The Batman (Cartoon)
Genre: Comedy, Fluff, Identity Porn, M/M, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 17:38:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17451401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlechinesedoll/pseuds/littlechinesedoll
Summary: Bruce Wayne and Batman are never in the same place at the same time. Until they are, and Gotham ships the hell out of it.





	Casual Affair

**Author's Note:**

> FOR MY FRIEND PAU WHO REQUESTED THIS OVER ON FACEBOOK. LABYU.

It’s almost comical, really. And the boys are having a ball, laughing their asses off whenever they see the reappear on their social media feeds as they scroll through their phone.

The video of Bruce in bed with messy hair, sheets way too far down his hips enough to tease but not indecent, and Batman by Bruce, too close for comfort, standing by the bed checking him over, who then quickly turns to leave through the terrace and jumps off into the night a second later.

“What are you doing in here?” Bruce demanded of Vicki and the cameraman.

“Bruce! You were sleeping in here this whole time?” Vicki said incredulously, “After all that ruckus downstairs, Batman fighting off Penguin and those freakish talons in red? Your butler almost died!” (1)

“Not so loud,” Bruce groaned, pulling the sheets over his head, “Can you come back when I’m not hungover?”

And it cuts off, mostly because Vicki doesn’t think Gotham will have any interest in their drunk Prince. She wonders how someone so dumb has this much money.

It’s Bruce’s own fault really for setting that interview at the manor, not that he knew Cobblepot would be dumb enough to attack Wayne Manor. Nothing is beneath Vicki Vale, especially if it means she’ll get the first scoop on the best stories, and now she got the best story Gotham’s ever had in years.

**SPOTTED LEAVING WAYNE MANOR—BATMAN! ARE BATMAN AND BRUCE WAYNE DATING?**

Of course, they don’t care that Wayne Manor was attacked. They care about Batman being too close to Bruce Wayne. Because Gotham thinks Bruce Wayne is a little whorey and will fuck anyone, so Batman is entirely included in Bruce’s pool of fuckable people.

“I don’t understand why,” says Bruce at breakfast. They’re in one of the drawing rooms since the small dining area near the kitchen is destroyed.

“I mean,” Dick wipes a tear off with the back of his hand, just calming down from a laughing fit. “This isn’t the first time you’ve been seen with Batman but God this is the best public reaction we’ve had in ages,” he came back from Bludhaven just to laugh at him.

Tim, who’d been staying with the Titans that night, who’s also quiet most of the time, finds himself snickering at the tabloids. “Well, at least they’re not going to ask why you’re almost never there when Batman is there,”

Jason thinks Bruce should get a Golden Globe for that improv. “It’s not like you’re obvious about anything,”

True. Bruce tries to keep his private life, well, private, and that includes whoever he’s been seeing. The girls that decorate his arms during his appearances are just that, arm candy.

“Lucius is going to have a field day doing damage control,” Dick comments from his bowl of cereal.

And that’s what forces Bruce to get up and go to work.

* * *

 

There is literally no way for Bruce to save himself when he’s held for ransom in broad daylight. They asked for a couple of million dollars. Honestly, it’s getting real old so he doesn’t really bother listening to their demands anymore. This whole thing is practically scripted. He gets kidnapped, a bird or two show up, problem solved.

While he knows Jason and Tim can handle themselves and rescue him with what he hopes will be minimal casualties, the public and the press will again stir the pot and ask why Batman hadn’t rescued his benefactor and maybe-boyfriend, and honestly, Bruce doesn’t want to deal with that. He’d rather be called a slut and a whore on the cover page of a trash tabloid than bother with identity porn.

So the public rejoices in the rare appearance of Batman in the day. Bruce is lying on the floor of an administrator office, hands duct taped to his feet and mouth taped shut, on the second floor of the Gotham Royal Hotel. He was in the middle of a lunch meeting.

His guard seems dumb enough to take the tape off his mouth, but Bruce does nothing because he’s supposed to be dumb himself. It won’t do to escape his binds and choke his guard, so he waits and acts terrified.

And waits and acts about to piss his pants.

But he doesn’t have to wait long, maybe about an hour or so, when there’s a commotion outside and guns firing in what seems to be no direction.

Oh, good. Birds. He hopes. He guesses Jason hasn’t come to the party since he doesn’t hear the distinct sound of his Desert Eagles firing.

Shaking, the guard leaves the room to check if his cohorts are still standing. He lets out a strangled scream the moment his head pops out and gets thrown across the room. The door swings open with the force of the throw, and Bruce’s eyes widen when he sees Batman standing in the middle of a pile of unconscious goons.

Batman releases him. “Little birds told me you needed a hand,”

Bruce peels the duct tape off his face then dusts himself off. It feels somewhat weird to talk to himself. “This is a good week for PR, it seems,” he takes Batman’s arm and wraps it around his waist. “Let’s go put on a show, babe,” he says as he makes their way out of the room down to the lobby and out of the hotel, where a swarm of reporters and bystanders were waiting, and freed hostages being tended to by emergency medical staff.

The sea of people falls quiet for about two seconds, unable to process how Batman, who always works in the dead of night, is standing right outside of the Gotham Royal Hotel with an arm around Bruce Wayne’s waist, at three in the goddamn afternoon.

As soon as people start clamoring to get Batman’s attention, the vigilante raises a hand and fires his grappling gun. There is a gasp when the Bat’s aircraft flies over the street with precision, catching the grapple hook just in time, and flies off with Batman hanging from its wing.

Bruce has done that countless times and he’s never realized how overly dramatic it is.

What Bruce doesn’t expect is to be herded off by a wall of police officers into an ambulance as reporters try to shove their microphones and camera in his face.

“Bruce! Bruce!” they say, “Are you and Batman dating?”

He’s itching to answer them because Dick is somewhat right, it’s kind of fun to try and keep the dumb charade going just so his identity can stay secret. Bruce tries to think of the sluttiest thing he can say. “I like to think so! I love being pinned down by that hottie!”

* * *

 

Batman and Bruce Wayne become trending for entirely different reasons. Bruce Wayne is trending when he’s got a new project, on some kind of red carpet, spending a shit ton of money on something that Gotham may or may not benefit from, or you know, general whoring around. Batman is trending when he saved the day (or night), did some extensive damage to the city (or somewhere else), or when he’s doing his hero thing in general. Batman and Bruce Wayne are always trending, in a sense, but they’re never trending _together_ in the same story.

Without missing a beat, the front page of every trashy tabloid in Gotham bears Batman, arm around Bruce’s waist, hips touching, under the bright sun, in front of Gotham Royal Hotel in every angle possible.

**WAYNE DATING BATMAN** say the tabloid in large, bold, black letters.

It’s glorious and the boys are loving every second of it. Even the more reputable newspapers have them as a part of the front page, under the main story, but without a doubt overshadowing it.

“You gotta admit,” says Jason, plopping down on the sofa in the family room where they’ve gathered around a mid-morning snack. “This is the best PR we’ve had in years, and we didn’t even have to actually do much,”

“I can’t believe you called yourself ‘hottie,’” says Tim, munching on a crumpet.

Bruce set his cup of tea down on the coffee table. “I was referring to someone else,” he looks over to the person he’s sharing the sofa with.

“I kind of like coming to Bruce Wayne’s rescue,” says Clark, popping one of the bite sized biscuits into his mouth. “When are we going to do it again?”

“We can check Alfred’s forecast of this quarter’s kidnappings,”

Clark stares at the master of the house. “You’re not serious, are you?”

Tim pulls out his phone and taps and scrolls a few times. “Apparently this is the first of a forecast of _at least_ two abductions,”

“Next time let Clark carry you while you pretend to be unconscious,” suggests Jason.

Bruce shrugs. Because if it keeps his identity safe, “Why not?”

“But you’ll have to get caught making out with Clark somehow,” says Tim.

Clark chuckles. “Now that is scandal for another day,”

**Author's Note:**

> (1) based on The Batman Season 1 Episode 11, "Bird of Prey" where Penguin and the Kabuki Twins break into Wayne Manor to steal something valuable, takes Alfred hostage, destroys Bruce's kitchen, and almost unmasks Batman. Can't remember if it's actually Vicki Vale, but, eh.


End file.
